Evocation
by s l y t h e r i n d o l l
Summary: First rule of witchcraft: never summon something you can't banish.


_**Fin**_

 **Warning: Violence, blood, hints of Non-con**

 **Hogwarts AU**

* * *

 _Hermione sprinted through the tall grass, hair and clothes plastered to her skin with the added weight of water. Her legs ached, screaming and begging for some reprieve, for her to stop. Only, Hermione couldn't stop, not even if she wanted to. Her chest was heaving, heart racing at an alarming rate beneath it as she fought the urge to collapse into the soggy earth._

 _A streak of lightning flashed, illuminating the night sky, and Hermione struggled to see through the downpour. The sky lit up again, and she sighed in relief at the sight of the church up ahead. She took a stumbling step forward, almost falling to her knees as she ran up the path. A low growl sounded from behind her, the inhuman sound echoing in the open space around her. A cold shudder passed through Hermione, and her face kissed the dirt before she realized what was happening._

 _She felt herself being dragged backwards. Flipping over onto her back, brown eyes landed on an ominous figure approaching, knee-bending power and a dark aura surrounding his tall frame. Hermione reached back, fingernails digging into dirt and grass as fear suffocated her._

 _"Ego mitte te-!"_

 _She gasped, fingers coming up to claw at her throat as it tightened. A deep chuckle rang in her ears, and tears sprung to her eyes, the sound of his footsteps drawing near._

 _"How cute," a callously deep voice mused._

 _Hermione was panicking, something she hardly ever did, but she'd found herself panicking quite a bit the past month. Ever since that night, the night she'd made the worst mistake of her life. She couldn't even utter a spell, and no nonverbal magic was working. Her vision began to blur, chest burning as he stood over her, shoes next to her head._

 _"You really think a few words in Latin will get rid of me?"_

 _He chuckled again, and suddenly she could breathe, air whooshing into her lungs at an almost painful rate. She crawled away from him, eyes wide and lips trembling. Fear gripped her shaking frame like never before as she came face to face with the consequences of her actions. He took a step towards her, and she opened her mouth only for the words to die in her throat. Her body rose, feet lifting from the earth with her hands pinned to her sides._

 _"Save your breath, Hermione. Nothing you use against me will work. Your…magic, is it? It's laughable," he sneered._

 _"Dr-Draco…please. I know that you're still in there. If you can hear me, please, fight it," she begged, accepting that she was out of options._

 _Pink lips pulled back over perfect teeth, the grin on his face anything but comforting._

 _"Bold of you to assume that he would want to," he purred._

 _Hermione grunted when her back harshly met the ground, face pinching up in pain as she fought to get away from him. Her eyes raked up his frame before connecting with the endless black that was once a sparkling silver._

 _"You see…," he began, taking a step forward, voice lifting in pitch. "Draco and I have come to an understanding."_

 _Her eyes widened as the obsidian bled away from his eyes, coming to rest in his irises as a bright red. He rolled his shoulders, tattered school shirt still hanging from his limbs. The next time he spoke, Hermione's eyes widened further at both his words and the sound of his voice, no longer demonic, but sounding like the Draco she'd known for the past six years. A familiar smirk fell over his lips._

 _"First rule of witchcraft, Hermione: never summon something you can't banish."_

* * *

 _34 days earlier…_

"You want to _what?_ "

Hermione huffed, pushing her plate away and slamming the book onto the table. Harry jumped at the sudden loud noise and leaned over to follow along to where she pointed, glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

"The assignment calls for a detailed account of the incident-."

"…so naturally, to you, that means we summon one of the spirits _involved_?" he questioned, looking at her as if she'd lost her mind.

She rolled her eyes.

"We _can_ , so I don't see any reason as to why we _shouldn't_ , especially if it will give us a better grade," Hermione responded as if it were the most obvious solution.

Harry leaned back with a grimace, and Hermione could understand why.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was one of the best wizarding schools to ever exist. It provided a wonderful education for magical students and creatures alike. Over the years, they'd taken a multitude of classes that were probably unheard of in the muggle world. Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense against the Dark Arts were just a few. Demonology, Occult, History of Witches, and Spiritual Practices were classes that were a part of the curriculum once students reached a certain year. They'd only _just_ reached that particular year.

They were pretty early on into the school year, and therefore, they hadn't gotten very far in Demonology and Spiritual Practices. In fact, Hermione was only so confident in her idea because she'd read ahead. They'd start summoning in a few months' time, anyway, and Hermione didn't see the harm in getting a hard start. Practice made perfect, after all.

Harry didn't agree with this, and he sighed.

"Look, I want high marks on this assignment just as much as you do, Hermione, but… We've only just started these classes, and to be honest, we're amateurs at best," he said, straightening up and folding his arms over his chest.

"Yes, but…it's a simple summoning, Harry. We're just calling forth an innocent spirit. That hardly calls for salt and holy water," she scoffed.

Her dark-haired friend pursed his lips, rolling his eyes in disbelief that he was actually considering this. It was preposterous and even potentially dangerous, and if any of their professors got wind of what they were planning, there would surely be hell to pay. On the other hand, he trusted Hermione, and for once, he wanted to start the year off strong with good grades right off the bat. Hermione wouldn't steer them wrong…

"…and you know what you're doing?"

Hermione beamed, straightening up, now knowing that she had him.

"Yes. I've read it over at least fifteen times," she assured him.

"It requires at least six people, nine is better, but twelve is best," Harry read aloud to himself, the words coming out in a murmur.

"Mm hmm," Hermione agreed, grabbing the book and slamming it shut.

Harry pulled his hand back just in time and sat back with a sigh.

"Knowing you, you want the best possible results, so… How are you going to convince ten other people to agree to this?" he asked, skeptical.

Hermione stood, collecting her bag and the book with a shake of her head.

"After all of these years, you still don't know me very well, do you?"

Harry followed her out of the Great Hall as she explained that he, in fact, was the last missing link.

"Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Pansy were easy to convince. I had them hooked at the words 'high marks on our papers'. You know how Ginny worries about Ron, so there was no way she was going to let him do it without her. Luna's curiosity won her over, and she, in turn, won Neville over.

"Theo and Blaise were the hardest to sway. They only agreed to do it if I could talk Draco into it…," she rolled her eyes as she remembered her conversation with the infuriating blond. "I was only able to rope him in by feeding him some lie that I desperately needed _his_ help specifically."

Harry took all of this in, not surprised in the slightest to see that Hermione appeared to have everything figured out.

"So when are we doing this?" he asked, finally conceding.

"Tomorrow night at 3:33 a.m. We'll be meeting in the Room of Requirement," she answered.

Harry nodded, the tension finally easing out of his shoulders as he relaxed.

* * *

"Any particular reason as to why they didn't just come with you?" Hermione threw at the dark haired girl opposite of her.

Pansy shrugged, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Hermione sighed, blowing a stray curl out of her face. It was almost half past three in the morning, and everyone was present. Everyone except Blaise, Theo, and Draco. The three of them were in the same house as Pansy, so Hermione didn't understand why the four of them didn't just arrive together.

Ron and Harry stood against the wall, impatience marring their features while Luna and Neville sat next to each other near the candle, hands intertwined. Seamus seemed to be teetering on the verge of exhaustion, head resting on Dean's shoulder, and Ginny was pacing, huffing every few minutes or so as they waited.

"They'll be here," Pansy assured.

"They better be. I'm already nervous enough, and I'd feel much better with twelve of us instead of nine," Dean spoke up from where he lounged against the wall.

"I swear on Godric's grave if they-."

"If we what, Hermione?"

She spun around, eyes narrowing as they fell on the three of them, focusing on Theo, the one who'd spoken. He walked past her with a chuckle, Blaise and Draco following right along. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl.

"You're late," she spat.

Blaise simply brushed past her while Draco smirked, eyes trailing over her frame as he approached. Hermione resisted the urge to take a step back, his hand coming up to graze against her stomach.

"We're here, aren't we?" he purred.

She rolled her eyes, slapping the offending appendage away as he chuckled.

"You just barely made it in time," Seamus said, standing along with Dean.

"Seamus is right. It's the middle of the night, and we _all_ agreed to be here. The rest of us had the decency to be here on time. I'm not sure what makes the three of you so special," Hermione sneered.

"Hey, Hermione, can you not be an intolerable bossy so and so for once in your life? Thanks," Blaise murmured as he moved to stand in between Ginny and Theo.

Hermione fought the impulse to start _another_ fight between them. She and Blaise had never been on the best of terms, having clashed from the very first time they'd met. She saw him as nothing more than an arrogant and selfish philanderer and he had actually called her 'a half step up from a brain dead hippogriff' once. They could be considered frenemies on their _best_ days.

She ignored him and instead opted for standing in between Ginny and Seamus, Draco following her lead as he went to stand opposite of her. The only light in the room came from the flame located in the center of the circle that the twelve of them made.

"It's almost time," Luna said.

"Everyone clasp hands," Hermione softly ordered.

"So how do we do this?" Ginny nervously asked, looking around.

"Close your eyes, and clear your minds of all thoughts…," Hermione said, taking her own advice.

Only silence followed her words, and Hermione took that as a sign to continue.

"We all know who we're summoning, correct?"

There was a hushed chorus of agreements, and Hermione took a deep even breath. An unfamiliar feeling washed over her like a wave, like the feeling of being full. Only, it wasn't so heavy, and she felt it throughout her entire body instead of just her stomach. She wondered if they could feel it too… The instructions in the text had been simple enough, the directions growing less complicated as the number of people increased. Twelve of them were present, and the sheer number of witches and wizards focused on one singular thing did most of the work. All was left for Hermione to do was…

" _Ego vocare_."

A slight breeze passed around the empty room, and everyone seemed to open their eyes at once just as the flame blew out. No one said a word, and she wasn't sure if it was out of fear or anticipation. Maybe both…

"Do you think it worked?" Neville finally quietly asked.

No sooner had the words left his lips did light fill the room once again as the flame reignited.

"I'd take that as a yes," Ginny breathed.

A small grin broke out over Hermione's face, satisfaction filling her frame at their success.

"Now what?" Theo threw out into the quiet room.

"We-."

Hermione was interrupted by a much harsher breeze this time, and she shut her eyes, her hair flying past her face. She could hear sounds of discontent throughout the circle, and it wasn't long before Hermione felt herself falling, landing on Seamus' legs as Ginny landed on her. Someone cursed on the other side, it sounded like Ron, and Hermione lifted her head just the slightest.

"Any other bright ideas? It seems to me that all we did was kick up a bit of wind," Draco hissed, standing and dusting off his trousers.

He was wrong. They weren't alone, anymore, and Hermione could feel it. However, it seemed that she wasn't the only one, because Luna voiced her thoughts before she could.

"I don't feel anything," Ron disagreed, struggling to stand.

"Anybody here?" Theo sang into the atmosphere, a mocking grin on his lips that was soon wiped away as his question was answered by a harsh knock on the wall behind him.

The dark haired boy spun, looking behind him as Hermione did the same.

"Can we ask it whatever it is that we need to ask it, so we can _go_?" Pansy proposed.

"I second that," Harry added from behind her.

"You died in 1738," Hermione said.

Her statement was met with two knocks that came from the other side of the room. They all spun back around, and this time, Hermione did it with a frown.

"Two knocks… What does that mean?" Neville asked.

"It means no," Blaise slowly replied, looking over his shoulder to throw Hermione an accusatory glare.

Everyone else followed suit, glancing back at her in worry. Hermione shook her head.

"No, that can't-."

"He's right. When Theo asked if anyone was here, there was one knock, signaling a yes," Luna interrupted.

Hermione pushed past them, standing in front of the group, now as she faced the wall.

"You died in 1738," she repeated, and was again met with two harsh knocks.

There was a tense silence, one in which no one knew how to respond. Had they not all been thinking of the same person? Had Hermione done it wrong? Had she read something wrong? Hermione felt herself being gently shoved out of the way as Theo stepped forward.

"Is your name Helena Curtens?"

His question was met with two harsh thumps, and Hermione felt her heart sink in her chest the same time there was a collective intake of breath throughout the room.

"It seems we summoned the wrong person. Gee, who could have foreseen this coming?" Blaise said, turning to face Hermione with a scowl on his handsome face.

"Piss off," Ron hissed at the Slytherin.

Blaise took a step towards her, eyes narrowed as she stood her ground.

"Know-it-all do-gooder Hermione Granger tells everyone to jump, and we say 'how high', huh? Here we all are on the seventh floor in the early hours of the bloody morning because _Hermione_ said so," he spat.

"Last time I checked I didn't make you do a damned thing. You could've flat out refused, but you said you'd show if Draco did," she replied.

"…and what a mistake that was. I should've known he'd agree. The two of you have been snogging in broom closets for weeks, now," he threw back, rolling his eyes towards his blond friend.

Hermione reared back with wide eyes, ignoring the questionable looks that she received from her friends. She didn't need to ask how he knew that, and she resisted throwing a scathing look at the man in question. Hermione decided to pretend Blaise had never said a thing, the task at hand being far too important.

"Let's just banish whomever this is, and try again-."

"You're mental! Let's banish this thing, and _go to bed_ ," Blaise interrupted.

Before Hermione could reply to that, Luna spoke up, startling everyone with her voice and her _question_.

" _Are_ you a spirit?"

Ron visibly blanched, spinning around to face her, words already on his tongue when he was interrupted by two fate-sealing knocks. Everyone froze, eyes widening and fingers trembling as they all began to glance around the room.

"What does that mean? If it's not a bloody spirit then what-?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I'm ending this," Hermione interrupted her red-haired friend, stomping over to the candle.

Before she could reach it, she was suddenly airborne, shoulder connecting with the opposite wall just before harshly landing on her back. There was a shriek, commotion kicking up in the room as the sound of approaching footsteps reached her. Hermione fought to sit up, head pounding with a vengeance.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ginny frantically inquired, reaching out to help the curly haired girl up.

"Y-yes. You have to blow out that candle. _Now_."

Before anyone else could move a muscle, the room was suddenly bathed in darkness. Shrieks filled the space as Hermione felt herself being dragged across the floor. She couldn't see a thing, but the noise indicated that she wasn't the only one being strung along like a puppet.

The flame reignited, only to flicker at an increasing pace. Hermione glanced up, and could see Luna and Dean pinned to the wall, struggling to move. She didn't have time to look around some more before she was colliding with the wall behind her. She heard two loud thumps, and glanced up through her hair to see Luna and Dean back on the floor now, gasping for breath.

There was a chorus of groans and expletives as her classmates fought to right themselves. Hermione didn't know what they were dealing with, what they had summoned, but it didn't seem friendly in the slightest. The candle was still lit, and Hermione painfully pushed herself onto her feet to approach it when something caught her eye. Her heart skipped a beat, a biting chill wrapping around her, and her eyes widened.

"Draco?"

He was lying down, staring up at the ceiling, but was otherwise as still as furniture. She ran over towards him, falling to her knees at his side before taking his face into her hands. She breathed a sigh of relief at his rising chest, but he wasn't responding. His eyes were blank, staring past her, and Hermione glanced up at the ceiling, seeing nothing before returning her gaze to the blond Slytherin.

"Draco," she called again, shaking him.

She could feel the rest of them congregating around them, concern thick in the air. She shook him again, and was still met with no type of response whatsoever. His face was cold, lips turning a pale blue as the seconds ticked on.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," she answered Blaise, doing her best not to panic.

But, oh, how she wanted to panic. Nothing was going according to plan. It was supposed to be a simple summoning of an innocent enough spirit. It was supposed to be easy, hell, even fun. Loads of witches and wizards practiced evocation. It was something that was supposed to be enjoyable, not confusing and frightening. Now, they were in a room with an unknown entity and an unresponsive classmate.

"You don't know? _You_ did this, this was _your_ idea," Blaise snarled.

She spun around, opening her mouth to fire something back at him when the dark skinned boy's eyes suddenly widened. Hermione didn't get a chance to see what had him so shocked. She gasped, hands reaching up to grip the hand around her throat.

"Hermione!"

She could barely inhale, the hold on her throat almost bone crushing. She looked down, brown and black –black, not grey– clashing. It was Draco's face, but the eyes that stared back at her didn't belong to him. Ugly black veins had begun to appear on his neck, traveling upwards and dancing along his jaw and lips. She reached out towards him with one hand, and the very next second an excruciating pain traveled up her arm.

Hermione couldn't even hear the commotion going on around her over the sound of her own screams. She clutched her bent arm to her chest, too distracted to realize that she was now free, lying on her side in agony. She felt a pair of dainty arms wrapping around her trembling frame.

"Hang on, Hermione," Pansy whispered in the other girl's ear.

Hermione figured that the girl had done a healing spell, because the pain had dimmed considerably. Once her heart rate had begun to slow down, and the adrenaline wasn't pumping as hard, she could finally hear the screams that were echoing around her. Unfortunately, Hermione didn't have time to thank the dark haired girl.

Hermione reached out towards Pansy as she was dragged away, her high pitched scream filling Hermione's ears. She stood on unsteady feet, running towards her when she nearly slipped. Hermione paused, glancing down at the sight of her best friend.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed in horror, collapsing beside the still girl.

Like Draco had been, Ginny too was staring up at the ceiling, but unlike Draco, she was not breathing. Hermione ran her thumbs over the girl's cheeks, only just noticing the dark liquid that had begun to darken her own pants. With trembling lips, Hermione slowly looked up just as the candle turned over, a fire beginning to spread throughout the room.

In the middle of the inferno stood Draco, eyes black and fingers bent as he basked in the sound of his own carnage. It looked like him, but she knew that it wasn't him. Those eyes, that grin…no. This was something other. His eyes met hers then, and Hermione gasped, the last thing she felt was her back harshly connecting with the floor, vision blurring as a tall figure stepped over her.

* * *

Hermione threw her bag onto her bed with a harshness that surprised even her. Her parents had opted to give her some space for the time being, a choice that Hermione was still conflicted about. After everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if what she really wanted was to be alone. She'd felt more alone than ever the past few weeks, and it was a feeling that she was growing to hate.

She stood at the foot of her bed, trying to unpack her things, but she couldn't move. Hermione was frozen, fear constricting around her frame as the memory of flames drawing near forced their way into her mind. She hung her head, a sob catching in her throat as she pressed her hand into her comforter, holding herself up.

 _"Ten of your classmates are dead, Ms. Granger, and one is still missing."_

She remembered the feeling of waking up in the infirmary, more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. She had been confused, confused and in pain as her bones protested against any movement she'd attempted to make. She'd barely remembered a thing, and didn't know why she had been there. At least, that was until their Headmaster had informed her of the fire, her classmates, and Draco's missing status.

In a rush, like a tidal wave, it had all come back. She remembered reading ahead and the excitement she'd felt. So much so, that she couldn't wait to start practicing, roping her friends and other classmates into it as well. She remembered being so confident, and assuring them that everything was going to be alright. Fate was a cruel mistress, because things could not have gone any worse.

They hadn't summoned the spirit of Helena Curtens. Instead, they'd summoned something much worse. It was something malicious and violent, attacking all of them before eventually forcing its way into Draco and…and… _killing them_. It had killed all of them, slaughtered them like animals, everyone except for her. No one had been able to explain how she'd survived, let alone gotten out, but deep down, Hermione had a guess as to how. She even had a possible answer as to why, and it was an answer that she did not like.

"Hermione, dear, I'm putting some tea on the stove. Would you like a cup?"

Her mother's voice drifted from down the stairs, and Hermione resisted the urge to let out a bitter laugh. She hadn't told her mum a thing, she hadn't told anyone anything. She didn't know how, and in turn, her parents didn't exactly know how to behave around her. She was sure that her mum was just trying to keep things as normal for Hermione as possible.

"That'd be great," Hermione called back.

However, Hermione knew that nothing would ever be normal again. In the past few weeks, she'd attended ten separate funerals, answered as many questions as her mind could possibly let her, and had been on the receiving end of backlash everywhere. Many people blamed her, despite not knowing what really happened themselves. She was the sole survivor of what everyone was calling The Great Hogwarts Tragedy, and that was more than enough for people to grab the metaphorical pitchforks and torches. None of that mattered though, because the truth was…

Hermione _was_ at fault.

It was why she could never look anyone in the face, and tell them what had happened. It was why she'd been so numb since that night, her body running on autopilot. It was why every night after that one had been filled with nothing but nightmares, forcing her to wake up night after night in a cold sweat, and mumbled apologies falling from her lips. She'd killed them, her friends.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Dean, and Seamus. She had never been _very_ close to Theo and Pansy, but they'd always been rather friendly towards one another. She and Theo had been study partners numerous of times, and while Pansy could be rather shallow and even borderline cruel at times, Hermione had grown to really like the girl despite all of that. Even Blaise's death had pierced through her like a knife. His funeral was the worst. They'd rarely gotten along, hating each other most of the time, and that was probably what tore her up the most. Hermione had never been the bigger person, putting aside their differences in order to make an effort to have a better relationship, and now she would never get the chance.

She sat on her bed, looking out at the night sky as the rain came down.

 _"…and one is still missing."_

 _Draco_ , Hermione thought.

The tears that hung on the edge of her eyes finally spilled over. The last time she'd seen him, really seen _him_ , he'd looked dead. She recalled the fear that had run through her as she had briefly thought that he was. The thought of never speaking to him again, holding him, and kissing him had driven her to her knees. _Not him, please, not him_ , she had thought. Who knew that something worse than death was waiting for him?

He'd been taken over by that _thing_ , used like a puppet while he hurt and killed his classmates. She wondered where he was, and if he was even still alive. She wondered if he was still roaming the streets, possessed and wreaking more havoc, or if he'd found a way to fight it, return to himself and possibly even put himself out of his misery? Or what if he had died in that room? What if Draco was long gone, and all that was left inside of him was the entity that they'd summoned?

Hermione wiped her face, rising to go and stand by the window.

Draco and Hermione weren't dating, but she felt confident enough to say that they were getting there. Growing up at Hogwarts, they hadn't been very close, only just starting to somewhat get along in their fifth year. She'd always thought him to be not so different from Blaise. Hermione wasn't even sure how it had happened, but he'd done something, something that was genuinely nice and wasn't driven by selfish desires for once. It had thrown her for a loop, so to speak, and it was after that that she'd noticed that he wasn't so horrid, after all.

Somewhere along the way, the shared notes, late night study sessions, and inside jokes had turned into a kiss. Then another, and another, and before either one of them knew it, they'd been –as Blaise had so eloquently put it– snogging in broom closets for weeks. For some reason, she hadn't been ready to deal with inquiring minds and judgmental gazes just yet. She could always tell that this had bothered him, but despite that, he'd respected her wishes nonetheless.

Oh, how she regretted that, now.

"Here you are, dear."

Hermione spun around, taking the tea cup from her mum with a small smile as the older woman approached her. There was an awkward silence as Hermione took a hesitant sip, and her mum watched. Mrs. Granger suddenly reached out, running her hand down Hermione's cheek.

"I'll just leave you to finish unpacking then. You let us know if you need anything, alright?"

Hermione could see it in her eyes, she wanted to ask. She wanted to hound Hermione until she spilled everything, but the fear, fear of knowing what really happened held her back. Her parents had never understood all of the "magical business", as they liked to call it. They only knew that she was special, and they'd accepted it with ease, congratulating their daughter. However, there was still a lot that they didn't understand, and for that Hermione was grateful.

"I will, mum. Thanks," Hermione murmured.

Hermione sighed, turning back around to face the window as she was left alone again to deal with the despair and guilt that ate away at her.

* * *

 _"You know what you need? A good shag, that's what," Draco answered his own question, twirling the quill around his long fingers._

 _Hermione huffed, sitting up and throwing him a disgusted glare._

 _"That's the answer for everything in your eyes," she spat._

 _The corner of his mouth pulled upwards into a smirk as he gazed at her from beneath his lashes, stretched along the floor as if he didn't have a care in the world._

 _"Not everything, just most things…," he said with a shrug._

 _"I_ need _to finish this paper. That's what I need to do," she mumbled with a frown._

 _It was the truth. They'd both started on it hours ago, and she was loath to admit that Draco had gotten much further ahead than she. For whatever reason, her concentration was just off, and the words weren't flowing like they usually did. It was…unheard of for Hermione. Just as she bent back down to start writing, a pale hand came up to cover her own, halting all movement. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow._

 _"How exactly are you going to write when you can't even think of anything to say? Take a breather," he proposed._

 _Hermione pursed her lips, swallowing down the feelings that the close contact invoked in her, and pulled her hand away. She dropped her quill with a sigh, admitting that he may have had a point._

 _"Don't look so put out," he laughed. "We can't all be great all the time."_

 _"I suppose you're right," she sighed, fully sitting up now to rest on her knees._

 _She paused, noticing his intense gaze, and swallowed, self-conscious all of a sudden. Did she have something on her face?_

 _"…what?"_

 _Her blond classmate didn't respond, instead opting for pushing himself up and reaching out to remove the large bobby pin from her hair. It haloed around her head in an unruly mess, and she frowned, reaching out to grab at it._

 _"Why did-?"_

 _Her question was cut short as his lips met hers, barely enough to just be called a kiss. She didn't move, body heating up as he firmly pressed them against her own, hand coming up to rest on the side of her neck. She'd thought about what it would be like to kiss him, more often as of late, but never actually expected it to happen. After all, she was an insufferable know-it-all on the best of days, and Draco was…well, to put it nicely, he was a bit of a whore. With that thought, she jerked away._

 _"What are you doing?" she demanded, rising to her feet with wide eyes._

 _"I_ was _kissing you," he answered, following her lead._

 _Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, a little taken aback by his nonchalant response._

 _"…why?" she finally asked._

 _Draco towered over her, tilting his head as he gazed down at her with a look that she'd never seen before._

 _"…because I wanted to…"_

 _"Why-? No. I don't even know why I'm asking you this. I'm not one of your slags, you know? I thought we were friends…," she trailed off, a little disappointed that she'd fooled herself into thinking that he saw her as more than another potential conquest._

 _A frown marred his face._

 _"We are," he answered._

 _"Friends don't do that," she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest._

 _He took a step towards her, one that she mirrored, and his frown deepened._

 _"People who want to be more than friends do…"_

 _"I'm not like that, and you know it, so I'm not sure what you expected to get out of this," she harshly said, glaring at him, now._

 _Draco reared back, a look of offense passing over his features._

 _"You really think that little of me," he deduced…almost sadly._

 _"Well…" Hermione threw her hands up. "What else am I supposed to think?"_

 _Draco scoffed, shoving his hands into his pocket._

 _"I don't know. Perhaps that I see a witch that I like and didn't want to waste any more time pretending that I don't," he threw back._

 _Hermione blinked, lips parting as his words fully sank in._

 _"You don't like anyone," she whispered. "You never have."_

 _"I like you," he said with conviction._

 _Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. Draco slept with girls and tossed them aside like they were nothing, and she'd never seen him sleep with the same girl more than twice. He basked in his reputation, and the fact that he broke hearts like a fighter broke noses. Where was_ this _coming from? She didn't believe him, and she told him as much._

 _"Hermione, you're brilliant. You are without a doubt one of the most powerful witches to ever walk these corridors. I've had my eye on you for years, and I got tired of feeding myself lies and excuses as to why it could never work," he responded._

 _Hermione's shoulders finally sagged at the sincerity in his words. She'd gotten to know him pretty well over the past year or so, and she could tell that he was being honest. Or at the very least, he believed that he was. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that._

 _"You never…I didn't know…," she finally said with a shrug._

 _He stepped towards her, and this time she did not step back. He smiled._

 _"I didn't think I was ever going to tell you, but… Lately…I've seen the way you look at me, sometimes," he whispered._

 _Hermione swallowed, feeling her face heating up. He reached up to brush his finger along her neck, dancing along her exposed collarbone._

 _"I can tell that you think about it, too," he murmured._

 _"I never expected," she trailed off with an exhale, shaking her head. "Why?"_

 _He leaned down again, thumbs brushing along her cheeks as he smirked._

 _"…because I believe that we could be unstoppable together, Granger."_

* * *

Hermione sat up with a gasp, sheets entangled around her legs as she fought to get her bearings. She didn't know where that had come from. Oddly enough, since that night, she'd never dreamt of Draco. At least, not the real him, not like he was before…

She sighed, throwing the covers off of her and moving to get out of bed when she heard noises from downstairs. She briefly wondered why her parents were up so late, but accepted the fact that she wouldn't be alone in the kitchen at least. It was a small comfort, Hermione not wanting to be left alone with her thoughts so soon after that dream. However, comfort was the last thing she felt as she reached the living room.

A loud shriek escaped her lips as she was met with the sight of her father's mutilated form on her living room floor. Blood pooled around him, seeping into the carpet and approaching her bare feet. Before she had time to fully register what she was seeing, her attention was brought to the man in front of her. He stood on the other side of the room, a small grin on his sinful lips as her mother's trembling form hovered above the floor beside him.

Her eyes were wide, tears skipping down her face in fear. Draco looked the same as he did the last time she'd seen him, school uniform and all. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at the situation, his eyes were still as black as night. The veins were gone though, and aside from his eyes and the maniacal grin, he looked as handsome as ever. It was an unsettling sight.

"Hermione…"

She took a stumbling step back at the deep voice that escaped from Draco's lips, a voice that did not belong to him.

"I was beginning to think I'd never lay eyes on you again," he purred.

She found her eyes traveling towards her father again, and she fought back a sob that threatened to escape. She tightened her grip around her wand as fear wrapped itself around her neck like a noose.

Draco sighed, drawing her attention back to him, and a look of faux regret crossed his features.

"He wasn't very hospitable towards me, and I got the distinct feeling that he wasn't going to allow you to leave with me. It was a very unfortunate situation," he tsk'd.

She raised her wand, a curse on her lips when he suddenly let out a laugh, as if she were the funniest thing in the world. Her hand shook.

"You think any spell you utter will work against me? Haven't you figured it out by now? I am the most powerful thing to ever walk this earth. You witches could only ever dream to one day bask in the presence of someone like me," he sneered, taking a step forward.

She didn't listen, but to her great disappointment, he was right. No spell was working on him, and she was almost suffocated by her fear. A whimper distracted both of them, and Hermione focused on her mother.

"Mum," she tearfully whispered, taking a step forward, unsure of what to do.

The position that Hermione found herself in felt a little too much like that night. She was in another situation where she didn't have the upper hand, at the mercy of this thing who was, once again, taking those that she loved. A despair like no other filled her as she realized that she would truly have no one, and it was all her fault. She almost crumbled at the realization of just how helpless she was.

"I need you weak, Hermione," his deep voice traveled around the room, an eerie double echo vibrating in the atmosphere. "I need you hopeless…"

And with that, he jerked his hand in the air, twisting her mother's neck with a sickening snap. Hermione felt her stomach drop, a loud choking sound escaping her lips, fight or flight kicking in as she turned and sprinted out of her house. His laugh echoed in her ears, and Hermione just knew that he enjoyed a chase. Oddly enough, she'd never expected him to find her so soon. She thought that she'd had time, and that at the very least, she'd be alone so that no one else would get hurt.

He hadn't killed her that night, even going so far as to saving her from the flames. There was a purpose for it, Hermione had figured as much. She didn't know the reason, and had just assumed that whoever, whatever this was, was coming to punish her for her insolence. She didn't know why, but she'd just accepted it as such. Perhaps it was because she felt that she deserved it.

She didn't realize how far she'd ran, but once she did, a brief thought crossed her mind. She picked up her pace as she turned the corner, running down the nearly empty street and into the field. Hermione had never been a very religious person, but there was something that media _had_ to get right, right? He was demonic, that much was obvious, and Hermione was desperate enough to place all of her bets on this final hope.

She sprinted through the tall grass, hair and clothes plastered to her skin with the added weight of water. Her legs ached, screaming and begging for some reprieve, for her to stop. Only, Hermione couldn't stop, not even if she wanted to. Her chest was heaving, heart racing at an alarming rate beneath it as she fought the urge to collapse into the soggy earth.

A streak of lightning flashed, illuminating the night sky, and Hermione struggled to see through the downpour. The sky lit up again, and she sighed in relief at the sight of the church up ahead. She took a stumbling step forward, almost falling to her knees as she ran up the path. A low growl sounded from behind her, the inhuman sound echoing in the open space around her. A cold shudder passed through Hermione, and her face kissed the dirt before she realized what was happening.

She felt herself being dragged backwards. Flipping over onto her back, brown eyes landed on an ominous figure approaching, knee-bending power and a dark aura surrounding his tall frame. Hermione reached back, fingernails digging into dirt and grass as fear suffocated her.

"Ego mitte te-!"

She gasped, fingers coming up to claw at her throat as it tightened. A deep chuckle rang in her ears, and tears sprung to her eyes, the sound of his footsteps drawing near.

"How cute," a callously deep voice mused.

Hermione was panicking, something she hardly ever did, but she'd found herself panicking quite a bit the past month. Ever since _that_ night, the night she'd made the worst mistake of her life. She couldn't even utter a spell, and no nonverbal magic was working. Her vision began to blur, chest burning as he stood over her, shoes next to her head.

"You really think a few words in Latin will get rid of _me_?"

He chuckled again, and suddenly she could breathe, air whooshing into her lungs at an almost painful rate. She crawled away from him, eyes wide and lips trembling. Fear gripped her shaking frame like never before as she came face to face with the consequences of her actions. He took a step towards her, and she opened her mouth only for the words to die in her throat. Her body rose, feet lifting from the earth with her hands pinned to her sides.

"Save your breath, Hermione. Nothing you use against me will work. Your… _magic_ , is it? It's laughable," he sneered.

"Dr-Draco… _please_. I know that you're still in there. If you can hear me, _please_ , fight it," she begged, accepting that she was out of options.

Pink lips pulled back over perfect teeth, the grin on his face anything but comforting.

"Bold of you to assume that he would want to," he purred.

Hermione grunted when her back harshly met the ground, face pinching up in pain as she fought to get away from him. Her eyes raked up his frame before connecting with the endless black that was once a sparkling silver.

"You see…," he began, taking a step forward, voice lifting in pitch. "Draco and I have come to an understanding."

Her eyes widened as the obsidian bled away from his eyes, coming to rest in his irises as a bright red. He rolled his shoulders, tattered school shirt still hanging from his limbs. The next time he spoke, Hermione's eyes widened further at both his words and the sound of his voice, no longer demonic, but sounding like the Draco she'd known for the past six years. A familiar smirk fell over his lips.

"First rule of witchcraft, Hermione: never summon something you can't banish."

She frantically backed away from him, and he allowed her to do so, ruby eyes never leaving her heaving form as she stood on unstable legs.

"Dr-Draco?"

He smiled her smile and ran his eyes over her, finally resting them on her own terrified ones.

"Hermione…"

She felt her heart clench at the sound of his familiar voice, but also at the color of his eyes, and the words he'd spoken. She didn't understand what it all meant.

"I-I don't… How…?" she trailed off, not exactly sure of what she was asking.

He took a step towards her, and she took two back, and he smirked at this.

"There's no easy way to put this, love…" she regarded him with wary eyes. "…but _I_ summoned him that night."

Whatever words she had prepared were suddenly caught in her throat, not expecting _that_. She heard him, the words sinking into her brain, but her brain had a hard time processing it.

"You summoned him… This…thing that's inside of you…you summoned it," she repeated as if she had to be sure.

He nodded, taking another step forward.

"I did."

Hermione didn't know what to say, everything that she'd thought over the past month suddenly thrown for a loop. All she could do was slowly back away as Draco talked, forcing that nauseating feeling in her stomach to grow as she was forced to listen.

"I wanted things, Hermione…things that I knew would never be accepted. I wanted power and control and to see half of the world kneeling at my feet," he began, the words coming out through clenched teeth, as if it pained him.

Hermione shook her head, legs growing weaker by the minute.

"Our feet, I should say," he corrected himself. "I wanted to rule, to cut down anyone who opposed me, to make this vile place how I would have it to be. It was something I'd thought about for years. While our friends gossiped about nonsense, I was scouring through my family library, trying to find the perfect way to see my vision through."

Hermione felt her heart breaking as she seemed to look at Draco for the very first time. He looked like her Draco, he even moved like him, but the words that were coming out of his mouth were _wrong_. His blond hair was plastered to his head due to the rain, the darkness around them making his red eyes glow that much brighter. He suddenly grinned, tilting his head to the side as he regarded her, a look in his eyes that she'd seen many times, but could never name.

 _Until now_.

It was a look of mirthful triumph. He looked like the cat who'd caught the canary. It was the same look he'd given her the first time he'd kissed her, and it was a look that she'd seen many times after.

"…and then you came to me with the most… _tempting_ opportunity. You were always brilliant, Hermione, and I'd never been more proud of my decision to pursue you," he whispered.

Her frown deepened.

"So you just…you _used_ me?"

" _No!_ "

She stumbled back as he made his way towards her, face morphing into something frightening.

"I told you the truth that day. I've wanted you for a long time. No one else in this world could ever be worthy enough to stand at my side. No one but you…"

Hermione laughed, the sound coming out like something between a cry and a scoff. Her face was wet from both the rain and her tears.

"Am I supposed to be _flattered_? You _killed_ them! Our friends, my parents… You killed all of them. How could you do that?"

He straightened up, not fazed in the slightest by her hysterics.

"I told you… For this to work, I needed you hopeless, weak. I wanted to come for you sooner, but there were some…" he frowned. "…matters that I needed to take care of first. Besides, I figured leaving you alone with nothing but your sorrow and guilt for a while would eat at you like I needed it to. Your broken spirit is the final piece of the puzzle."

Hermione gradually blinked, on the verge of passing out as she regarded him, a newfound fear making its way through. He'd made it clear that he wanted her, but the knowledge that he _needed_ her for something was unnerving.

"What are you talking about?" she slowly asked.

Draco held his hand out towards her, and she briefly looked at the offending thing as if it were a snake. She supposed that it was, or at the very least, attached to one. Draco…was a snake, lying dormant and waiting for the opportune moment to rear his ugly head.

"Come on, Hermione. Every great ritual needs a sacrifice. Fortunately for us, this one happens to require a virgin one…"

The words were barely off of his lips when Hermione turned and sprinted towards the church. She burst through the doors, turning to face him as he approached, a panicked scream tearing out of her throat as he stepped inside with ease. The wind from outside blew around him as he seemed to bring the weather inside.

"No, no, no," she murmured in disbelief.

"I will praise you for your efforts, no matter how useless they may be," he said, the church seats flying away from him and crashing into the opposite walls as he made his way down the aisle.

She ran towards the front of the church, taking note of a bowl with water in it. She halted for half a second before grabbing it and tossing it at him. An inhuman cry escaped him as he doubled over, smoke rising from his face and hands. Before Hermione knew it, she was being lifted, throat closing up as she dangled above him.

She clawed at her throat, tears running down her face while her vision blurred. Half of his face looked melted, but with a fright, she noticed that it was healing, the skin stitching back together. The red in his irises spread, the color bleeding into an unending black, that devilish smirk falling over his lips.

"You'll make a beautiful bride," a deep voice chuckled.

Hermione's movements grew sluggish, and she could not fight against the darkness that swallowed her.


End file.
